A Week In The On-Call Room
by Koshka Snow
Summary: A new resident comes to Seattle Grace and catches George's eye. After working a harrowing few cases, they end up in the on-call room together to recuperate. She's got a boyfriend and George doesn't care, but he's tired of being the go-to second choice. A couple short stories about you and George slowly coming to terms that nobody's going to be giving up the bed any time soon.
1. Monday

You were tired.

The bags under your eyes could be labeled Gucci and Prada at this point. Even Dr. Bailey had noticed that you were looking a little ragged, to put it lightly. "I'm taking you off the service rotation right now. Go home and get some sleep. You've scrubbed in on a couple surgeries back to back all day today. Have the interns take care of your patients." You tried to protest but closed your mouth, sighing and turning towards the locker room.

Happy Monday.

As soon as you were out of Bailey's view, however, you took off for the all-too-familiar on-call room that you were sneaking naps in between surgeries for the last day and a half. Another night at the hospital wouldn't hurt - it's not like you had anything particularly interesting waiting for you at home. You had left your boyfriend behind in Chicago when you were offered residency at Seattle Grace and you wouldn't see him until later this week when he came out to visit. Not that he particularly bothered to talk to you regularly anyway. Sharply turning the doorknob to the on-call room, you were ready to collapse on the nearest bed.

However, someone was already occupying said bed.

"What's going on, is everything okay?" George mumbled sleepily as he rubbed his eyes, squinting at the light streaming in from the open door. You shook your head, closing the door behind you and flicking on the lamp on a nearby table. George groaned and slapped his palms over his eyes, struggling to adjust to the light.

"I need to take a nap."

"Shouldn't you be going home?"

"I could ask the same of you, O'Malley." You knew he had been scheduled the same as you, assisting on multiple surgeries back to back.

"Aren't there other rooms with beds? I'm already here." George flipped on his side, burrowing his head into the pillow in a failed attempt to deter you from pushing further.

"I'm trying to avoid Bailey. She's still here and I was supposed to leave the hospital. So slide over, O'Malley." George's head shot up at your bold demand.

"W-what?"

"You heard me. Slide over."

You didn't give him much of a choice as you shut the light off, kicked off your shoes and pulled back the covers, forcing him to roll over towards the wall. With a great effort, you climbed into the bed, head heavy as it dropped onto the pillow. George tried to keep a respectful amount of space between you two but it was nearly impossible considering the width of the bed compared to two grown adults. He surrendered the pillow, propping his head up on his arm and turning to face the wall.

"Goodnight, O'Malley," you said, closing your eyes.

"Yeah. Good night."

Sleep came quickly for you - you couldn't say the same for George but you weren't conscious to notice.

Your alarm vibrated under the pillow a few hours later and you felt a heavy weight on top of you as you tried to move. Oh great. Sleep paralysis? you thought as you stared at the ceiling. Suddenly realizing that you could move your limbs, you looked down to see a mass on top of your torso. Suddenly realizing that it was George, you let out a deep breath. He shifted and you used that motion to gently slip out from under him, repositioning his head from your chest to the pillow you had stolen from him in the night.

"Hey," he mumbled as your weight shifting on the bed woke him up.

"Hey yourself," you responded, adjusting your scrubs and blindly looking for your shoes in the dark.

"What time is it?"

"Early. I'm going to go shower. You've still got some time."

"I don't wanna be weird, but that was the best nap I've ever taken."

"Go back to sleep, O'Malley."

You don't know if he even heard you - he immediately started snoring again. You couldn't help but smile as you slipped on your shoes and watched George's chest rising and falling in the dim light coming in through the blinds. In your short time at Seattle Grace, you two had grown fond of each other. You had a prickly exterior when it came to the other residents but O'Malley managed to keep you from losing your cool most times. Sure, you were the newbie and the other residents tended to treat you like one of the interns, but that didn't take away from your skills as a surgeon. You and Meredith clashed, so by extension it was hard to get along with Cristina, and Alex seemed to be combative with everyone in general besides Isobel who was MIA as it was.

George also had his fair share of problems at the hospital, from being called 007 to having a nasty divorce with Dr. Torres and failing his intern exam and being left behind for a while. You could sympathize with him because he, too, had to work twice as hard to show that he was just as good as the rest of the residents. Maybe it was too early to be calling anyone here a friend, but you could see something there with George. He had always given you the benefit of the doubt.

You rushed to your locker, pulling out your shower supplies before going to get ready for the next day.


	2. Tuesday

"Hey, do you ever go home?" George let out an exasperated sigh as he opened the door to the on-call room. You were laying on the bed, arm hanging off the side, scrunching your eyes shut as you tried to will yourself to fall asleep.

"Hey, you know there are other rooms, right?" you shot back, flipping onto your back and covering your face with your arm. You weren't ready to fight with George today. Both of you were on-call for the night and you had gotten into an argument with Karev the day before, losing both of your spots on one of Shepherd's neuro surgeries. You weren't in any sort of mood today and this was the first time you were able to rest all night. You heard a shuffle and the corner of the bed sank in under what you came to realize was George's weight. "What do you think you're doing, O'Malley?" you asked, moving to prop yourself up on your elbow.

"Didn't seem to bother you last night," George said bluntly, leaning back and dropping his full weight beside you. You bounced slightly on the bed from the impact and shouldered him until he moved a little further towards the edge. It was unlike him to be so abrupt and short with you. These were answers you had learned to expect from Meredith or Cristina, maybe even Alex, but not George. "They're in use. The other rooms. Now I'm going to close my eyes and rest a bit if that's alright with you."

You could feel something was wrong, past the usual exhaustion you knew George was feeling. He pulled the pillow sharply under his head and rolled onto his side, facing away from you. You tried to pull a corner of the pillow back, but to no avail. George was holding on to it tightly and you huffed, rolling over so you two were back to back. The only sound in the room was George's shallow breathing and there was no way you were going to fall asleep now without satisfying your curiosity. The bed creaked as you turned over again, staring at the dark shadow that was the back of his head. Reaching out with one finger, you prodded him gently. "O'Malley. Hey, O'Malley?"

With a loud groan, George flipped over, his glistening eyes the only thing visible in the dark. "What? What do you want?" You drew your hand back, pressing your back against the wall.

"Look, if you'd rather have your emotional discussions with Izzie or Meredith or something that's fine," you started. George made a noise as if he was about to interject but you kept going. "But we're both here right now and I can't sleep knowing you're laying here next to me and you're not okay." You don't know where you suddenly got the courage or the energy to challenge George like this - there had been patients coding left and right all night and both of you were running on empty. Maybe you should have just tried to fall asleep and left George to figure his shit out himself. Just as you were about to turn back around and give up, George answered.

"Izzie has cancer."

"Izzie has cancer?"

You didn't mean for it to come out like a question as you echoed it back to him. You knew the questions-as-answers would only exacerbate the situation. It's how the two of you challenged each other while doing research or studying up on patients - not how you should be talking about a fellow resident diagnosed with cancer. George turned onto his back and folded his hands under his head. "Look, I know you don't really like her but -"

You cut George off midsentence. "This isn't about me right now. This is about Izzie. This is about you. How are you doing, O'Malley?" Reaching out in the darkness, you gently placed a palm on his shoulder. George stiffened under your touch and relaxed after you gave him a light squeeze.

"Izzie has cancer," he started, voice hollow. "And I was the last person to find out. She told Cristina - Cristina - before she even told me. My best friend has cancer and I had to find out from someone else." You heard his voice cracking and sat up, reaching over to flip on the lamp on the bedside table. George quickly wiped his face as light filled the room, but you could see his eyes were rimmed with red and blotchy patches appeared on his cheeks. George had been angry in front of you. Happy, elated, stressed. He had shown you the entire spectrum of emotion but you had never seen George cry before. You didn't know what to say to this, so you scooted up, yanking the pillow out from under him and sliding it behind you as you leaned against the headboard. George propped himself up on his arm and looked at you in confusion. You patted your abdomen and opened your arms.

"Come here, O'Malley." George hesitated slightly before laboriously dragging himself across the bed and collapsing on top of you, resting his head on your torso. You dropped arm arm around him, rubbing his back gently. "You wanna keep talking about it?" George shook his head and you winced at the pressure of his chin pressing into your body.

"Can you do me a favor and just distract me. Talk to me about your life?" There was a sadness in his voice and you could hear a little bit of pleading as George threw an arm over your middle and let out a deep breath, settling against you.

You didn't know where to start. "Well, my boyfriend, Daniel, is supposed to be coming into town tomorrow. Something with the law firm he's working with sending him out here for a few days."

"Supposed to be?" George mumbled.

"He hasn't contacted me since Sunday, so as far as I know it's still on."

"You know, I didn't even know you had a boyfriend. You never talk about him."

"He wasn't thrilled that I came out here from Northwestern Memorial. I didn't expect the offer but I shouldn't have been surprised - after all I did send the applications for transfer out as soon as I passed my intern exam. I always told him that my career was important to me and that maybe we could both move out here after a while. There are plenty of law firms and he wasn't particularly attached to the one he was working with. Maybe I was being selfish -"

"You're not selfish," George cut in. "Your career is important to you. Not everyone understands the draw of surgery." He trailed off and you picked the conversation back up again, changing the topic from Daniel to Chicago and how you went from extreme wind to near constant rain. You talked and talked until you noticed George's breathing had become shallow. Gently leaning over, you realized he had fallen asleep and was starting to snore. Running your hand along his hair, you reached over with your free hand and flicked the lamp off.


	3. Wednesday

You were not one to bring your personal life into the hospital.

You watched relationships crash and burn and awkwardness ensue between the residents and their attendings. It was as if nobody could leave their problems at the doors of Seattle Grace and focus on their work without their drama getting in the way. You had been at the hospital for a few months now and it was almost as if you repelled drama. Maybe it was because you hadn't gotten close to any of the other residents. The interns had fallen from grace what with their competitiveness and the aptly named intern cabal, and you weren't trying to find a friend in any of them. Aside from the occasional conversation with George, you didn't have much interaction outside of patients.

Meredith and Cristina had each other. Alex was practically always in Izzie's room. The closest thing you had to a person was George, but even so you two barely talked outside your interactions at work. You had never called him or even asked him to get a drink at Joe's or anything. You knew the residents gossiped about how George had cheated on Dr. Torres with Isobel and how he had been oblivious to Lexie's attraction. You didn't want to be another point of conversation for them. But...

Truth be told, you were lonely.

But today, you walked into the hospital with your head held high, tears rolling freely down your face as you mashed the elevator button until the doors opened. You stepped in, hitting the button for your floor as you clutched your purse to your chest. The doors began to close when an arm shot out between them. You rolled your eyes and looked away, realizing that it was George's arm sticking through the doors. "Morning!"

"Morning," you replied flatly. George hit the "door close" button and stared straight ahead, rocking back and forth on his heels.

"So..."

"No."

"Not even a hint?"

"No."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

You silently thanked whatever higher power that the elevator quickly got to your floor and you all but ran out, making for the residents' lounge where she quickly changed into her scrubs and went to round. George watched her rush off and shook his head, sighing. Meredith looked up from the bench in front of her cubby. "What's the matter with her today?" she asked, turning to George,

"Why are you asking me?" he asked, hanging up his bag.

"You seem to be the only one getting along with Sunshine," Cristina piped up from the couch in the corner.

"Sunshine?"

"You know, 'cuz she's always sooo chipper," Alex chimed in as he walked into the lounge. George scoffed and changed, heading out to find Dr. Sloan as he was on his service today. The day seemed to drag on as George worked on people's face lacs and assisted Sloan with plastics consults. When it was finally time to have lunch, he ran into Bailey who was furiously scribbling on her clipboard.

"O'Malley," she snapped, not looking up. "Have you seen Sunshine?"

"You too, Dr. B?" George sighed.

"Well she was just such a joy covering the pit today, it seemed appropriate. One of her patients was asking for her. Nothing urgent. Have you seen her?"

"No, but I have an idea," George said, turning on his heel and heading for the stairs. He ran up and weaved through the ocean of visitors and patients before reaching the on-call room. He knocked lightly on the door before turning the handle and cautiously poking his head inside. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he opened the door enough to slip inside and closed it behind him. "You know they're all calling you Sunshine out there?" You looked up as he spoke. You were sitting on the bed with your back to the door, pulling on loose threads in your scrubs. Without looking at George, you sighed and leaned back on your arms.

"Sunshine, huh? That's creative." You blew a strand of hair out of your face and George slowly came over, sitting down in front of you on the bed. "Did you need something, O'Malley?"

"Bailey was looking for you. Something about a pit patient who was asking for you."

"Nobody paged?"

"It's not urgent, I offered to deliver the message."

"Aren't you a gem, O'Malley."

George smiled weakly. "I try. How's your boyfriend?" You froze and stared coolly at George. "You said he was supposed come to Seattle today."

"Yeah. Was." You got up off the bed and made for the door.

"Hey," George called after you. Your hand twitched as it waited above the door handle. "You wanna maybe come out to Joe's later?" A smile tugged at your lips and you turned your head to look at him.

"See you at Joe's."

* * *

You slammed the shotglass down on the bar, swallowing the tequila that burned your throat on the way down. George laughed as you grimaced and he took a swig of his beer. "Come on, O'Malley. We're getting fucked up tonight," you practically shouted, waving over the bartender. "Gimme two Kamikaze's." Slapping down a couple crumpled bills from your pocket, you handed George the shotglass and raised yours to the bartender. George sniffed the shot and recoiled, clinking it with yours before quickly throwing it back. "Drinks on Sunshine, O'Malley. Don't be shy."

"You're drunk," George chuckled, holding on to his beer glass for dear life.

"And you're not drunk enough!" you slurred, sipping on the glass of water Joe had slid over to you.

"Are you gonna tell me why you were all weepy today?"

As if it had instantly sobered you up, you clutched the glass of water, looking down at the cracks in the bar. George watched you intently with his brown eyes - you thought he was going to bore a hole right through you. "Daniel never showed up."

"I figured as much. What happened?"

You chugged the glass of water, sliding the glass to the edge of the bar for the bartender. "He called this morning. Said his business trip got cancelled." You laced your fingers together, leaning forward on your elbows.

"Could be worse," George offered, ordering two more beers when the bartender walked by.

"And then he dumped me."

George froze, holding the two glasses in front of him. Slowly, he pushed one over to you and bit down on his lip. "Crap. I'm sorry. I didn't -"

"Yeah, you didn't." After a short pause you looked up at George. He was still staring at you and you felt a blush creep across your cheeks. Or maybe it was the alcohol flush. "He said I abandoned him, took off for Seattle and didn't think about his feelings at all. But he's the one who didn't want to cut it off when I got accepted and he's the one who knew even if I finished my residency at Northwestern I would be heading off to the best place that took me. So, to be honest, this is all his fault." You sipped the beer George got you and smiled. "And now I'm sitting here, getting drunk with my coworker instead of getting laid like I was planning to tonight."

George coughed as he took a sip, spraying beer all over the bar. You laughed and handed him some napkins, running your hand down your face. "Sorry. I'm sorry. That was just... abrupt." The two of you changed the topic from bedroom activities to something about the procedure George helped on today and you finished off your beer, closing out the tab with Joe.

"I'm going to need your keys," Joe said, looking at you and George. You pulled them out of your pocket and dropped them on the counter. George shrugged. "You know I don't drive, Joe."

"Did you think I was going to drive you home, O'Malley?" You laughed, pulling on your sweater. He grinned sheepishly. "Guess I'm crashing at the hospital again," you mumbled, looking around for your bag.

"I'll walk with you," George offered and you smiled slightly.

When the two of you reached the on-call room, you dropped your bag and kicked off your shoes. George quietly closed the door behind him as you sat down on the bed. "Are you going to get a cab?" You asked, suddenly concerned with how George was going to get home.

"Maybe," he responded. "Figured I'd sit with you for a little longer just to make sure you're alright. You drank a lot today." He set his bag down and joined you on the bed.

"Isn't it funny, though?" You said suddenly. "Daniel waited this long to decide to break up with me. Makes me wonder how long he had been thinking about this. Or if he'd been sleeping with someone else while I've been gone." You began to ramble, sliding back on the bed to rest your back against the wall. George kept quiet, letting you talk. "I could have slept with anyone in this goddamn hospital, you know? Anyone. But I didn't. Because I'm a good person!" You were on the verge of tears and George reached out to put his hands on your arms. He ran them up and down, sshing you when you started to get louder.

Suddenly, you reached out and grabbed fistfuls of George's shirt.

"What are you -"

"Kiss me, O'Malley."


	4. Thursday

The digital clock on the bedside table beeped as it turned over to 12:00AM.

You were sitting on the bed in the on-call room, George's shirt bunched up in your fists. He was staring at you, mouth agape as you repeated yourself.

"Kiss me."

"You're drunk."

"And I want you to kiss me."

George's hands were still on your arms and they felt like hot, heavy weights as he held you tightly. He cautiously leaned forward and you followed suit, briefly bumping your nose against his. He pulled back slightly, drawing in a sharp breath. George closed his eyes and you froze, centimeters away from his face. The two of you sat there, motionless, until George finally opened his eyes and dipped down towards you, crushing his lips against yours.

Something flared up inside of you and you pulled him closer by his shirt, gasping for air before colliding with George again. He practically fell over on top of you as his hands roamed down the sides of your body, coming to rest on your waist. Your hands, on the other hand, traveled up to his face as he nipped at your bottom lip, giving it a light tug. A moan escaped you as he traced your lip with his tongue. At the sound, George's eyes widened and he moved back.

"Are you sure? Are you sure this is okay?" His eyes darted around, examining your bewildered expression. You rolled your eyes.

"Are you okay, O'Malley? We can stop right now."

"No. God no," George blurted out as he wrapped his arms around you, pushing you back down onto the bed as his mouth latched on to yours. You groaned as his tongue prodded at your lips and let him in. His tongue was thick and hot and tasted like alcohol and you silently thanked whatever God had intervened in your love life that this happened. Daniel Who? you thought as George rolled onto his side, tracing his fingers up underneath the hem of your shirt. You detached yourself from George's face and ducked down to drag the tip of your tongue against his throbbing carotid.

George gasped, digging his fingers into your side and pulling you flush against him. At his vocal admission, you planted your lips against his pulse point and sucked gently, causing him to buck his hips against you. He gently tugged at the hair at the base of your head, pulling your head back and exposing your neck. "If you leave any hickies I'm never going to hear the end of it."

You chuckled and slipped your hand under his shirt, splaying your fingers out against his firm abdomen. A shudder ripped through the surgeon as he took his turn nipping and sucking at your neck, languidly running his tongue along your skin. His hand hung loosely under your shirt, fingertips twitching every so often. With a sudden rush of confidence, you started to pull George's shirt up and over his head. He let go of you and swiftly yanked his shirt off, pulling at yours until you helped him remove it. George sat back, drinking in the sight of you shirtless underneath him.

Suddenly you felt very self-conscious of every curve, stretchmark, and bulge on your body and tried to cover yourself up with your arms. George reached out and blocked your movement, gently dragging his hand down your side as he leaned down to kiss you softly. "You're beautiful," he whispered against your lips. Your vision was cloudy and you couldn't tell if it was because you were still drunk or from all the blood rushing to your lower regions. "You're so beautiful," George repeated, planting hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck. You lay motionless as his mouth explored your body. He licked across your collarbones and slipped your bra straps down your shoulder, reaching under you to fumble with your bra clasp.

You arched your back, pressing skin against skin as George unclipped your bra, pulling it off your shoulders and tossing it aside. You felt something hard pushing against your thigh and looked up to see a furiously blushing George licking his lips as he rubbed his pelvis against yours. "Someone's horny," you blurted out, giggling as George let out a low groan and took your breast into his mouth, kneading the other with his hand. The motion caught you off guard and you wrapped your legs around him, desperate to feel all of him against you. George's hand slipped between your legs and pushed against your crotch, rubbing the seam of your jeans against your center. A loud moan erupted from you and George grinned, kneeling to get his pants off while you kicked yours off faster than ever.

George looked over to the door, silently debating if he should quickly go lock it. You pulled him back on top of you, wiggling under the blanket. "It's not like we haven't walked in on people in here before, O'Malley. It's fine." There was a hint of desperation in your voice and George grinned, joining you under the blanket and kissing you hard. Somewhere amidst the adjusting and moving, you two had shed your underwear and George hesitantly hovered over you, prodding at your entrance with his dick. You whimpered into his mouth and he slid in with some effort on both of your parts. He buried his head against your neck, moaning deeply and mumbling something incoherent into your neck.

His thrusts were erratic and uneven until the two of you found a joined rhythm. Your quiet moans and his whispered praises echoed in the on-call room as George sped up, squeezing his eyes shut as he neared his climax. You reached up and put your hand on the back of his neck, pressing your forehead to his. George opened his eyes and stared deeply into yours as you orgasmed, gasping for breath. The pulsing around his cock was too much and George let himself go inside of you, moaning your name loudly. The two of you lay there, covered in a layer of sweat, and holding on to each other for dear life. He kissed your forehead, stroking your hair gently.

"What now," George mumbled. "I'm sorry, that wasn't supposed to be out loud."

"Don't ruin it, George," you muttered, pressing your lips against the dip between his clavicles. He felt his heart skip a beat when you called him by his first name. You remained motionless with him in bed for a little longer before getting up and looking for your clothes. George grunted at the sudden shift and rush of cool air as you tossed the blanket aside. He was still thinking what now? and you were too, only you didn't want to worry about that right at the moment. "Here, get dressed," you said, tossing his pants at him as you pulled on a shirt laying on the floor.

"That's my shirt," George said, sliding his legs into the pants. Crap you thought, seeing your shirt poking out from under the bed. You pulled off the shirt you mistakenly put on and George drew in a sharp breathe at your semi-naked form. Once the clothing was sorted out, you stood awkwardly in front of George. "Come here," he said, patting the spot on the bed next to him. "Our shift isn't for a few more hours."

You froze for a bit before sighing and bending down to kiss George gently. "I'm going to go shower and clean up. Thanks for tonight, O'Malley". You picked up your bag and left, leaving George sitting speechless on the bed. He fell backwards, narrowly avoiding smacking his head into the wall as he groaned and covered his eyes with his hands. You were back to calling him O'Malley and George didn't know what had just happened. You were outside the room, leaning against the door and breathing heavily. Maybe I should go back inside. The night doctors were beginning to check on their patients and you made the decision to quietly slip away, heading for the resident's lounge.


End file.
